Asking the right questions

05/2009

rainy season in the wetlands–question: why do people live there?

answer: because its free and there is no where else to go.

Avoiding glibness with Zis Zis

I was with 2 visitors from Norman Community in Oklahoma, Ryane & Dalton.  We were circulating in the primitive shanties of the wetlands.  The Normcom/KC team from the States (all 28 of them) were doing the same thing in other parts of the wetlands.  Trying to meet people, speak with them, encourage them in some miraculous way.  Seriously.  In some miraculous way to speak some words that might change their lives.  It takes a miracle to change a life.

As we approached an open door to a primitive dwelling, I yelled out, Knock, knock.  Something I learned from an African friend.  Warning whoever was in there that we were approaching.  The door was open, and a young, but weathered black man, in his late twenties, was sitting, sprawled out on an ancient, nondescript sofa, hidden from first sight.  He didn’t have the energy to move.  As we came into his view, he just made a gesture for us to come in.  The three of us stepped in, exchanged greetings, and sat on a small, well-marked wooden bench.

He was a Xhosa man.  Zis Zis is his name.  After we told him who we were, what we were doing, he spoke to us in broken English, I’m hungry.  I’ve a wife and child.  I work for bread.  I need bread.  Does your God give bread?  Right past any intros, any casual conversation, direct.  He was taking a short break for lunch from a temporary job he had a few blocks away.  He look tired.

Zis Zis, the exhausted, impoverished laborer asked us: does God give bread to the hungry? Another version of the question: does God care about me?  And ultimately: is God good?  Zis Zis did not want to hear about religion.  The vibe was simple and clear: answer my crucial questions or don’t bother me with your Jesus.

I liked his directness.  Why dance around?  He did not have the energy to dance.  Rather, if you have something of importance to say, state your piece.  He waved at his living circumstances, a gesture that said, this is what I have, and what I am trying to salvage.  And then he admitted that he drank beer to escape.  In just a few moments everything was out and on the table.

Life was hard.  A familiar story: he moved from the rural area of the Eastern Cape to find a job and the hope of a better life.  He had a young wife and children.  He was struggling for enough work to put food on the table.   Yes, a very common story in Masi, but, this is important: very personal.  A personal story with a vulnerable heart experiencing it.  The Father loves personal because He is personal to His creation in an astonishing way.

When Zis Zis asks such poignant questions, the kind that clarify and challenge at the same time, I realized that what I have for him is not a bucket of money, a job, a construction crew ready to renovate and bring living transformation.  No, something else.  What I have is simply: a message.  Imagine that–all I have is a message.  Stepping in from the mud outside his doorstep, across his worn-out threshold, into his personal living space, what I have is: a message. 

The message better be good.  Because I am intruding into his desperate circumstances implying that I have something important for him.  Cheery Mike, showered and fresh.  The message better not be glib.  The message better have the power to convict, to be revelatory, to resonate, and to be full of power, or we are merely buffoons taking up his time.

We gave him the message. And I felt an empathy toward him.  A connect.  He could have been me if I had not been rescued.  Seriously.  My choices could have driven me into destitute circumstances, drained of hope, looking at any vice for escape.  But the message had gotten inside of me.  And now I have confidence that the message can change him.  Help him more than a bucket of money.

Don’t get me wrong.  Money helps–but temporarily.  And there is not even enough money to go around for a day.  The best thing for Zis Zis, the best thing for each resident of Masi is to know the Father who gives bread daily.  Who can really provide and lead and answer pray.  Because at some point I will disappear.  He needs someone who will stay with him and provide for Him.  He needs a long term solution. One that helps him in a myriad of ways, domestic, relational, marital, financial, and spiritual.  Someone much greater than any 1 guy.

Standing before him, it was a moment of vulnerability for him that still stays with me.  He listened.  Really listened.  He saw a ray of hope in what we were saying.  Sitting in the darkness of day he may have just seen light.  And the story isn’t over.  For the message to bring a new life it has to work its way deeply into the heart, and then there will have to be many cries for rescue, for a Savior.  He did accept our prayers for change, for personal revelation.  But the story is unfinished.

He did get the intro that we cared about.  The introduction that Jesus could become real for him and his family.  Jesus must become more real than the circumstances that scream at Zis Zis, the circumstances that scream at each of us.

When we prayed, his dwelling did not fill with light and the ground did not shake.  But we gave him what others have lived on for centuries to transform their lives and change their direction.  The message that can bring personal and family healing.  We told him the message.  When we left it was with the knowledge that the Spirit of God speaks to a man, works within a man, stays with a man, changes a man.

Zis Zis, in his desperate, rudimentary living circumstances, is Everyman.  And he is asking the right questions.  Does God want to get involved with my life?  It is a question for everyman.  My life?

What the Father desires

The answer to that question–does God care for me?– came to me from a different quarter.  It happened to me a few weeks ago.  Unexpectedly.  What God wants came from Deuteronomy, of all places.  Who reads that?  Not me.  But somebody drew my attention to it.

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

There it is.  Simply put.  Everything that is important to our existence summed up in one verse.  Of course, we have all heard that before.  The great commandment.  And most of us have the same reaction: You’ve got to be kidding.  How do I do that?  I am not even aware of God most of the time.   How could I be that focused and intentional in living?  So we dismiss the whole idea of loving God with everything we have as somewhat, well, … let’s be careful… because, …we hate to use the word–loving God that much is… ˜impossible.

OK, OK, I am right with you.  It is hard.  I agree.  It seems… let’s use the word: difficult.   When something is difficult we tend to dismiss it.  Distance ourselves from it.  But I need to acknowledge it,  value it.  Do something about it, anything, but something.  At the least I think it would be better to do what Bob did in What About Bob–take baby steps in the right direction.  Baby steps.  Movement.  Go in the right direction.  Because the proclamation continues–there’s more:

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts.

Er, OK, upon your heart.  Hmm. We can memorize that command.  I can do that.  That is doable.  Memorize the great commandment.  Simple.  Just memorize it.  Recite it in the morning and during the course of the day so I don’t forget it.  It will be a good discipline.  If it is that important to the Father, I can do it.  Anyone can memorize that simple command and it will then be in our hearts.  Mission accomplished. There’s more:

Impress them on your children.

OK.  I can see the importance of that. Let our very own children know the value of this commandment.  Loving God.  That makes sense.  Tell our kids.  I want to do that.  After all, we do love them and want them to know the way of truth and life found in Jesus.  I can do that.  It will be awkward at times, but doable.

Let me think this through.  Tell how the Father rescued me.  The kids might like that.  Tell what my life would be like if I did not know Jesus.  That would be a scream–the kids would get a kick out of that.  How horrible I would be if I didn’t know Jesus.  Yes, they will love that part.

OK, tell my children where I was heading before He grabbed me, before He became real for me, before He gave me a new heart, a new conscience, and renewed my mind with truth.  Let my children know what my story is–in detail.  Impress the kids with what happened in my life because of Jesus.  OK.  Makes sense.  Make Jesus central in my life.  And I am now making  Jesus real to the ones I care most about. It will be good for them and good for me.

But telling my story in the past tense is not the end of it.

Talk about them (the commands of God) when you sit at home and when you walk along the road,

Because my story goes on.  It is suppose to continue each day.  Hmm.  In my own personal space, in my favorite resting spot, in my home, I need to tell how my life is going with Jesus.  Yikes.  For good or for bad.  If I want to make Jesus real, central in my heart, then I have to include Him in the center of my life.  Oh boy, that could be more difficult.

And talk about Him with my loved ones frequently?  What if my kids are teenagers?  They will freak.  But if I wanted that amazing commandment of loving God written across my heart and soul, I would need to give daily updates on my walk.  In fact, be vulnerable.  To teenagers?  What about seasons when you feel disconnected?

Letting your heart get away from you

I caught myself going through the motions the other day.  One step after another.  Responsibly, with smiles, with cheer, I performed.  I looked the same on the outside, but…  But, honestly, going through the motions.  Then I realized that I had been going through the motions for a number of days.  I didn’t want to look too closely and see how long it had actually been.  But I knew that my heart had slipped away.

It felt like I was talking about Jesus as an idea rather than as a person.  I did not feel that my emotions were attached to what I was saying.  Bad sign.  My heart was drying up. It was so easy to slip into routine.  You know, getting up without thinking, eating, drinking, going out, coming home, the day behind, tired.  More what-to-do’s in front of me.  And tired.  Day after day.  And slowly, ever so slowly, my heart slipped away from what I was doing.

I was still doing it.  Fulfilling responsibility, getting things done.  I was getting on the bus of life every morning and it was whisking me away.  Then it would drop me off late in the afternoon, tired.  But I was missing something.  My heart felt distant.  I still talked like I was alive, and I moved around like everything was grand.  But my heart was distant.

With a distant heart Jesus feels far away.  I didn’t feel like we are communing during the course of the day, including, inviting, asking, and knocking.  Instead of relationship it felt like knowledge.  Knowing something.  I was worn out, running on fumes, trying to keep things going.  Passing out ideas and concepts. 

Then a phrase popped into me, a phrase from a verse.

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.  Proverbs 4:23
How interesting is that?  Above everything, watch out for your heart.  First and foremost.  Protect your heart, guard your heart.  Because out of it comes what? the wellspring of life.  Wellspring?  Water?  A deep, fresh well?

Hmm.  My heart had been on automatic pilot for weeks,  Jesus seemed further away, Someone I knew, but not experiencing in the present.  My heart was dried up.  Dried up.  I needed a wellspring.  I needed refreshment.  I needed help.  I needed a source of water to come through and revitalize me.  The simple verse brought me to my senses.

My heart.  The commandment of the Father, the desire of the Father, only makes sense, can only happen, if my heart is alive.  A dried up heart will never work.  To know Him my heart has to be continually refreshed.  Experiential living.  Not conceptual living.  Not handing out tidbits of truth but a message with power.  Not living on past experiences or thoughts or truths.  But new and fresh life, thoughts, revelations.

So Zis Zis asked the right question.  Does God care for me?  For me–not the other people who seem better off, but me.  Does He care about ME?  And if God didn’t care about each of us, wouldn’t it be crazy for Him to ask me to love Him with my heart, my mind, my soul, and my strength?  That would not make sense.

Does God care for me?  Zis Zis asks what every man wants to know:  if God exists, does He care about me and my circumstances?

How does God show He cares presently?  God shows His care, His compassion, by moving in one of His children to do something for someone else.  We don’t usually get to see the big picture.  We get it one day at a time.  But the Father knows when a verse can startle someone from going through the motions.  The Father knows what a powerful connection truth is when it is unpacked even in a forgotten book like Deuteronomy. 

But, better than that, the Father knows how to lead someone at just the right time, to turn here, to turn there, step by this, step over this, and then go around that corner.  There’s a door, an open door.  He knows how to bring a message.  He knows the power of the message when the messenger is even gone.  He knows what can happen to a lonely, struggling man when three strangers come up the short, muddy path, calling out, Knock, knock.

He knows how to release revelation that changes a life forever.  And He always uses the message.  He loves the message.  It His message, crafted in eternity with unimaginable consequences.